


so you think you can't dance?

by niallcentric



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallcentric/pseuds/niallcentric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall’s bitter because he can’t dance but he’s forced to learn how at bootcamp and he meets a pretty boy there by the name of Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so you think you can't dance?

Niall didn’t know what he was doing.

They were in some room full of mirrors trying to learn the choreography to a dance routine because apparently that was part of bootcamp. Not like it was a singing competition or anything. Their choreographer – whatever his name was, Niall wasn’t too bothered with remembering all these names that’d been thrown his way the past couple of days – said it helped with their stage presence and upped their confidence so they wouldn’t look awkward milling about on stage or trying to move around but not knowing what to do.

The point was, Niall was bitter. He didn’t know how to dance; didn’t know he _needed_ to know how to dance. And from what he’d seen upon scurrying into the room where the early arrivals had been “warming up”, no one else really knew how to either. Because they were singers. Not dancers.

If he got kicked out of the competition because he couldn’t dance, he was going to go over the deep end.

As it were, Niall was standing awkwardly – he had a feeling he was always going to be awkward – near one of those wall mirrors and scoping out the competition. The choreographer, Whatsisface, had already rounded them up and gave them a speech about why the dance portion was important and then he said they’d be starting in about five minutes.

There was an array of people to watch. Really, the competition had every type. There was one in the far corner diagonal to Niall with tanned, olive skin and hair short enough to be shaved that looked like he was about to cry at the prospect of moving rhythmically to a beat. There was another one in the corner to the left of tan boy’s, fairly tall, that looked like he was trying too hard to play it cool. Niall could respect him though because of his hair’s uncanny resemblance to Justin Bieber’s.

In all honesty, there were a few guys who seemed to have some idea of what coordination was. Granted, Niall had no idea what classified as good dancing, but for his standards they were pretty decent. There was one guy wearing a beanie that was laughing with a few other contestants, goofing around and showing off his own dance moves. They were pretty lame considering, but like their choreographer said, the guy was oozing confidence so it’s not like you wanted to look away.

It was oddly fascinating watching him and Niall found himself eyeing the bloke head to foot. Another tall guy. Pretty average looking from where Niall could see him. Brown curls were peeking out from beneath his beanie and every time he smiled, dimples would appear in his cheeks. Average, but cute. He had a bit of a baby face, not that Niall was one to judge.

Niall was pulled out of his trance when Whatsisface called their attention. “Okay guys, let’s give this first routine a go!”

Everyone started lining up like you’d see students lining up for ballet practice (Niall didn’t watch ballet), so Niall scrambled to find somewhere to stand and ended up in between a really tall kid with chicken legs and Curls.

Whatsisface and a couple other choreographers showed them what to do and they were told to mimic them. It was okay at first because when they mimicked the moves, they did them slowly and without music and Niall felt like he didn’t look like a flailing idiot that way. But then they added the music and sped things up and Niall couldn’t remember half the moves and the guy to his left kept kicking him with his bony legs.

They kept it up for a while, the choreographers as patient as ever as they repeated the steps over and over again to those who kept forgetting and once they were sure everyone remembered, they left the contestants to practice on their own and said they’d all come back the next day to perform by gender in front of everyone for review.

So Niall really had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t capable of dancing in tune with the beat, he was always a step behind, and he’d smashed Curls’ foot more times than he cared to think about.

The seventh time it happened, Niall finally plucked up the courage to apologize for his lack of coordination. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands as if to pacify the boy as he limped a little in his spot and tried covering up his wince with a smile that just turned into an awkward grimace.

“No it’s fine,” Curls said, rubbing his foot one last time before plastering on a much more charming smile. “Not really a dancer, eh?” His voice was low, slow and a bit rough. It made Niall feel warm.

“What gave it away?” Niall asked dryly and felt a flutter in his stomach when Curls laughed. Up close his face was much more interesting. Pretty skin tone, not pale but not really tan either and a near perfect complexion. His eyes were green and they sparkled in the light. Niall was right about the guy oozing confidence. Even though he was about as terrible as Niall – if Niall hadn’t been so annoyed with his lack of dancing skills, he would’ve laughed at the guy’s expense – he still had this boyish charm that Niall had a feeling helped him get away with just about anything.

“Well, if my bruised foot is anything to go by...” Curls grinned and Niall felt himself blush, finally beginning to feel the humiliation of causing the guy possible injury. What if he ended up needing an x-ray or something and Niall somehow fractured his foot and he wouldn’t be able to perform because of him?

“I really am sorry about... you know, stepping on your foot an' all,” said Niall as he scratched the back of his neck with one hand and motioned vaguely in the direction of Curls’ foot with the other. The contestants around them continued to practice the routine and he felt like everything around them was in fast-forward as they stood there staring at one another.

Curls shrugged and took the beanie off his head to shake said curls out before returning the beanie back to its place. “I might be inclined to forgive you,” he said. “I do, after all, have pretty boys tripping over me all the time,” he smirked.

“I wasn’t tripping,” Niall quickly defended himself before he realized what Curls said and his blush was back. Curls laughed like it was his intention to make Niall flustered and Niall couldn’t tell if he meant what he said or if it was just heat of the moment.

The curly-haired lad held out his hand and Niall shook it warily, watching as his pale hand was swallowed by the other boy’s larger one. “I’m Harry,” he said.

“Niall.”

“Where you from, Niall?”

“Mullingar,” he gazed down at their hands that were still clasped and shaking. He returned his eyes to Harry’s and the boy was already smirking again.

“I’m guessing that’s in Ireland.”

“How could you tell?” Niall grinned back, but it was short-lived. His palm was starting to get sweaty from the warmth of Harry’s hand and it made him feel awkward again but he didn’t want to pull away. Harry squeezed his hand a bit like he knew what he was thinking.

Harry shrugged. “I have a thing for Irish accents,” he said and the hairs on the back of Niall’s neck stood. “I’m from Cheshire, if you’re wondering. Holmes Chapel to be more specific.”

“I like your accent, too,” he failed to mention that Harry’s accent sounded like every other English accent he’d heard and he figured bringing up the fact that his deep, rugged voice could probably lull him to sleep wasn’t a good idea, either. He decided not to respond to the second part because he’d never heard of Holmes Chapel before.

Harry’s smirk was a bit crooked, making one dimple more prominent than the other and he finally dropped Niall’s hand. Niall tried to inconspicuously wipe his hand on his jeans. “You’re a man of many words, Niall,” he said.

“Yeah,” was Niall’s lame response. Harry was starting to make him nervous and his cheeks were kind of still red and he didn’t really know why.

Harry chuckled at that. There were still people moving all around them but the Cheshire lad didn’t seem to care and instead took a couple steps backward to lean against the back wall where they’d somehow migrated to while dancing. Niall figured the socially correct thing to do was follow him so he did and ended up standing in front of the other boy who had his hands stuffed in his jean pockets, the waistline of his trousers threatening to slide down his legs from how dangerously low they were resting on his hips.

His boxers were peeking between the top of his jeans and the hem of his shirt. Niall tried not to notice.

Harry tilted his head and Niall squirmed a little under his gaze, feeling exposed. Harry hummed. “So are you a blonde or a brunette, Niall?”

Niall’s eyebrows furrowed at the random question. “Uh...”

“’Cause I mean, the top of your hair is blonde but like, the rest is a dark brown so it’s like half and half, you know?” said Harry brilliantly, pointing to his own head to emphasis each point.

“Well...” Niall sang quietly after recovering. “I’ve been dying my hair blonde for years so I guess blonde.”

“But you’re a natural brunette,” Harry stated rather than asked. Niall just nodded. “Interesting,” Harry said even though it really wasn’t. The boy pursed his lips and tilted his head another way as if to get a better look, then squinted his eyes. After a few seconds he raised his eyebrows and another little smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and for some reason Niall felt dirty. “I like the blonde better,” he said. “Suits you more. You’re a hot blonde.”

Niall choked on his saliva after innocently attempting to swallow and tried not to gape at Harry who made it look so normal and easy to call another guy that he barely knew hot right to his face.

“I mean, not that you wouldn’t be a hot brunette,” Harry quickly corrected himself as if Niall’s reaction was meant to be taken as some sort of offense to what he said. “It’s just, I’ve got a thing for blondes,” Harry licked his lips and Niall shivered but tried to cover it up by rolling his shoulders. He didn’t want to think about what that tongue could do and where he’d like to feel it.

“Er—“ Niall stuttered, unsure of what to say to that. He’d never been openly complimented by a guy before and certainly not by one as pretty as Harry and he was really starting to feel like a girl fumbling around her crush.

A loud voice tore through Niall’s train of thought. “Alright guys, that’s a wrap for today!”

They were all told to come back tomorrow at noon to be judged and to not forget to practice as much as they could between now and then.

There was a rush as every contestant made to file out of the room and Harry winked at Niall before kicking himself away from the wall and following the crowd out, getting lost amongst all the guys.

Niall released a deep breath, feeling a headache coming on as he picked up his things before trailing behind everyone else. He really needed an aspirin and maybe a hot – or cold – shower and a really long nap.

He just hoped he never had to see Harry again.


End file.
